 | Julia Alpinula
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XXVI.
Long years in Manuel's eye, a restless gloom
Was seen to strive, and haunt him to the tomb.
And Andron came his kinsman's strife to see,
The last strong throe, and mortal agony.
And Manuel's crown he wore, and saw the stones
Grow grey with years, and darken o'er his bones.
Whate'er befel that heart, his own was changed,
In roving wide, avenging or avenged.
He brought a bride from o'er the heaving main,
Yet on his brow were lines,—perchance of pain,—
Such they might be! who knew? who knows ev'n now?—
They could but see the blackness of his brow.
If e'er Eudora's name was named aloud,
His look grew gloomy, and his bearing proud:
In all beside, gay, versatile, and brave,
Free as the wind, and reckless as the wave.
| Julia Alpinula
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